Review – Ploutos, an Aristophanic comedy ****

Ploutos is the Greek god of wealth. In the play he is personified as a blind man. Our hero, a farmer called Chremylos, and his servant stumble upon him and, after a little light bullying, take him home. Wealth is blind so he can’t discriminate between the deserving and undeserving. But our farmer has other ideas and a visit to a shrine sees Wealth’s sight restored. This occasions a visit from the god of poverty, who advises against Wealth and in favour of learning from hardship. Nevertheless, the miraculous restoration of Wealth’s sight results in a transformation amongst all those visiting the farmer, with good people rewarded and others ridiculed.

This new production by Thiasos theatre company in a new translation by David Wiles is bouncy, energetic and huge fun. The stylised costumes and make up are a real treat, adding humour and a touch of warmth to the characters. And how wonderful to be in a theatre again and hear the band tuning up! Yes, we have real live musicians (many of whom double up as members of the large cast of characters) playing delightful ‘Greek’ music from musical director Manuel Jimenez. For those of us denied our annual pilgrimage to a Greek island this summer, this added another layer of wistful enjoyment to the piece. On top of that there are musical numbers and even some Greek dancing (although no broken plates!).

The performances are big and bold like the costumes and make up. Our narrator is Chremylos’s servant Carion, played by Salv Scarpa. He has an appealing stage presence and brilliant clarity and power in his voice, immediately getting us into the play. Like all the other performers, he uses movement a great deal. This keeps the whole thing feeling alive, vibrant and intimate, despite the cast having to keep back further from the audience than they otherwise might have. Oengus Mac Namara plays both Wealth and Poverty which great gravitas, which Charles Sobryy as Chremylos plays against delightfully, reminiscent of Percy’s relationship with Blackadder.

This large company has made a serious investment in this play and the quality and love they have for the material shines through in the performance. How they make it work financially for a small, socially distanced audience I don’t know, but thanks go to The Space for making this happen and for looking after us so well.

Ploutos is at The Space until Saturday 3rd October, after which you can catch it in Poland!

 

 

Review – Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again ****

Alice Birch’s Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again feels like it was inspired by the Me Too movement. But it pre-dates that, having been a hit for the RSC in 2014. It is telling that the subject matter is still relevant.

This is an angry and uncompromising play. It’s comprised of a series of episodes with different characters in each. We are teased to find patterns and connections by references to bluebells and watermelons throughout, but they are, like the bunches of flowers, left to wilt. And when I hear watermelons my mind goes to Dirty Dancing. But perhaps not putting baby in the corner has some distant, if muted, connection to this piece

If there is a common thread it’s the dissection of language to expose how it undermines or ignores the female perspective in an alarmingly casual way. The sketches begin in comic mode as a couple, we assume returning from a date, engage in verbal foreplay. His attempts at seduction are each deconstructed by her forensic analysis of his choice of words. Such as objecting to having her dress ‘peeled’ off: ‘I’m not a potato!’

The second scene has a woman asking not to work Monday’s because she wants to sleep more. The man (someone from HR, her boss?) offers ever more tempting inducements like free cake or exercise classes or happy hour at the roof-top bar on top of the office to keep her at work. As with the previous scene, he fails to understand what he’s being asked. Offering more bribes for someone so they don’t have to leave the office even to eat or sleep or exercise is not a solution for someone who wants to spend less of their life at work.

As the scenes progress they become darker, the characters less connected to each other. The structure becomes more vague until eventually even language itself collapses as characters talk across each other and at the audience, leaving us no chance to follow a thread, but just catching key words. This makes the later scenes somewhat less effective. You find yourself stepping out of the moment and thinking about how hard you are working to keep tuned in to the story.

The play is uncompromising in its message that, despite what we may experience ourselves and what legislation says ought to happen, there are deep-rooted societal barriers to women having an equal voice.

The large cast assembled for this production by Blue Stocking Effigy is impressive. The Space never allows any actor to get away with anything except the most committed of performances. It’s altogether too intimate for that. Fortunately this group are all completely on top of their game, clearly supporting and engaging with each other in focused and passionate playing. This is just the kind of piece which is so well suited to The Space.

Whatever your personal position on the issues raised here, you’ll find this an arresting and rewarding piece of theatre which boldly challenges established norms and leaves you with no choice but to think about your own approach, language and behaviour.

Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again is at The Space until 2 February 2020.

.

Review – Gasping at The Space ****

Ben Elton’s first play is a deconstruction of capitalism and consumerism centred on the idea of a yuppie-style company hot shot that air can be turned into an aspirational consumer good. We have designer water so why not designer air?

Like all good satire the leaping-off point for this increasingly outrageous story is close enough to be within touching distance of reality. In fact, it already happens to some extent. When I was in Las Vegas some casinos would leave their doors open, wafting cool, refreshing, air-conditioned air into the street to lure you in from the 117-degrees-in-the-shade Nevada heat.

The story develops as Sir Michael Chiffley Lockheart, head of the Lionheart company, asks his over-eager underling Philip to come up with a ‘Pot Noodle’. That is, to create a market where none existed before. Generating money where there was none. The idea becomes Suck and Blow, a device to generate purified air in your home or business. The downside is in doing so it sucks oxygen out of the surrounding atmosphere to the point that it’s runaway success results in a shortage of normal, breathable air – unless you can afford to pay for it.

This is early ‘little bit of politics’ Ben Elton and he lands his punches at corporate greed, management speak and class distinctions with delightful and subtlety-free abandon. It appears there’s no point he thinks can’t be improved by a good joke and the script is packed with great laughs throughout.

The bright-eyed but naive yuppy leading the Suck and Blow project is Philip, played by William de Coverly. At first I was concerned he was playing the part as Rik Mayall in full Alan B’stard mode. At times it seems the lines must have been written with him in mind, although in fact the part was originally played by Hugh Laurie. Mayall’s force-of-nature performance style is, though, unique and un-matchable. Reminding us of him can’t invite favourable comparison and de Coverly is at his best when he leaves that behind and let’s his own take on the ridiculous and sexually naive Philip come through. He has loads of energy, which always works well in the intimate setting offered by The Space. And he gets some great laughs purely from his body language and facial expressions.

Michael Jayes plays head honcho Lockheart, who steers Philip to exploit the commercial opportunities of his idea for selling fresh air.. Lockheart is quick to see commercial opportunity at every turn. Whenever Philip’s project encounters a problem he instantly spots a way to exploit it to his advantage. Jayes does this with an easy charm combined with an underlying ruthlessness. You can totally see why he got to the top.

Philip’s junior sidekick, Sandy, is the real brains of the operation and in the part Gabriel Thomson wisely plays him completely straight, providing a great contrast to the over-the-top Philip. You may know Thomson from his eleven years playing Michael Harper in the BBC sitcom My Family. He certainly has comedy skills, shown at their best here in a brilliant scene where he finds himself juggling, I think, five different mobile phones, at one stage even passing one to an audience member to hold.

Skevy Stylia is Kirsten, the steely advertising genius who helps Lockheart and co bring Suck and Blow to the market. She has all the right lines and anyone who’s ever dealt with an advertising agency will recognise the type. The cast is rounded out by Emily Beach in various supporting roles, enjoying herself particularly as a weather forecaster.

Co-directors Gavin Dent and Neil Sheppeck have used the confines of The Space well, with minimal props bringing the scenes to life and keeping the pace up. They conclude the play with a post script in the form of a video of Greta Thunberg telling us the world has got to change. I know production company Rising Tides has an environmental agenda and there are obviously environmental aspects to a play about the air we breath. But I think this is perhaps stretching Ben Elton’s targets into areas not originally the focus of the play. Unusually, also, after this the cast did not reappear to take their bows. I guess the reasoning was to leave us thinking about Ms Thunberg’s message rather than massaging the actors’ egos, but it would have been nice to be able to show appreciation for their work.

Gasping is at The Space in rep until 16 November 2019.

Review – Ghost Stories ***

Ghost Stories is back in the West End for Halloween. It’s been a huge success since it first appeared in 2010. Paying homage to a format seen in some classic British films it contains three separate stories, introduced by Professor Goodman (Simon Lipkin).

The professor tells us people like to see patterns to make sense of the unexplained. The episodic format gives a sense of structure to which we cling in the face of the genuinely uneasy atmosphere the show creates. Your brain is messed with from the moment you enter the building. Weird and creepy sounds are played through the PA system even in the bar. Inside the auditorium the house lights are not working, being replaced by strings of work lamps whose caged bulbs flicker erratically. Apparently random numbers are scrawled on the walls.

The first story, concerning a night watchman at an almost empty warehouse, sets the style. The setting is obviously spooky and the usual creepy elements are duly present: mysteriously unexpected sounds in the dark, odd voices on the radio and a weird child/doll. Children are a sure-fire ingredient in these kinds of tales if you want to be extra sure of chilling spines. I still think the scariest of the modern Dr Who stories was the one with the child in the gas mask asking, ‘Are you my mummy?’

The suspense and tension in the theatre build nicely. Partly that’s because of the expectations on us to be scared. This is not a subtle evening. The stories are very much of the ‘scary tales round the camp fire’ variety – those told with a torch shining up your face for added impact. And that torch device is actually deployed unashamedly here. The shape of the stories in each case is also similar, with each one building to a shock moment designed to make you jump – which it can’t help but succeed in doing. That’s because theatres are easy places to make dark – just turn out the lights. Then make a sudden loud noise in the silence (very loud in this case) and behold; the audience jumps. But my instinctive reaction to being made to jump, when all the authors have done is effectively shout ‘boo!’, is to feel manipulated and determined not to be caught out  again.

The best ghost stories have more going on than this, though, and this is true of Ghost Stories itself. It’s in part an exploration of guilt and how our mind copes (or fails to cope) with it. There are hints of what’s really going on in the professor’s lecture. And the fact it’s written by Jeremy Dyson and Any Nyman is enough to tell us to be alert to another layer beyond the story within a story which the professor is telling us. I won’t say more because it’s clearly best to enjoy this sort of experience without spoilers.

Finally I  must say that the skills of cast, stage crew, sound and lighting are deployed with brilliant timing to deliver the stand-out thrills. However immune you consider yourself to this sort of thing I defy you not to be, at least for a second, genuinely scared!

Ghost Stories is at the Ambassadors Theatre until 4 January 2020.

Review – The Mousetrap ****

I was a little surprised to find the touring version of this West End war horse turning up so close to town. But maybe the producers think the London production sells well enough to tourists so a little local competition won’t do any harm.

Whatever the reason, it turned out to be an unexpected joy to revisit this play, which I have seen only once before, many years ago, in its London home.

Over the years it has become, of course, a period piece. Set in the days before mobile phones and when people could still use their ration book as a form of identification, these features are lovingly retained. As are the somewhat clipped oh-so-British accents of the owners of Monkswell Manor where the action takes place. That aside I found the script to be surprisingly fresh and the characters accessible and relatable.

The story concerns the new owners of Monkswell Manor, Giles and Mollie Ralston, who, on their very first day in business, find themselves snowed-in with an assortment of apparently random guests and a news story of a murderer on the loose. Fortunately Sgt Trotter is sent along from the local police to help keep them all safe. Needless to say it transpires that one of those at Monkswell Manor is also the murderer.

That’s really all you need to know going in.  The story is efficiently told, the characters clear and quirky enough to each bring suspicion on themselves. There are some humorous moments, a little frisson of tension but, it has to be said, no obvious hook to make the play stand out. It’s continued success now is largely fuelled by its longevity. You just have to see it to find out what it is that’s kept it going since 1952. But there has to be something else going on as well.

What you find is a warmly welcoming set with a snowy gale blowing all the various guests in to warm themselves by the glow of the open fire. It really does look like the kind of place you want to be on a cold winter’s night. The star billing goes to Susan Penhaligon as Mrs Boyle, the guest who finds nothing to her liking (a prototype, surely, for Joan Sanderson’s hotel guest from hell in Fawlty Towers). She chews up the other characters like Margaret Rutherford in bad mood! But it’s really a proper ensemble piece. Understudy Edith Kirkwood played Mollie Ralston delightfully. David Alcock was in equal parts charming, irritating and sinister as the only unexpected guest, Mr Paravicini. Lewis Chandler was as camp as he could be playing Christopher Wren whilst still making the character real.

So Monkswell Manor turns out to be a thoroughly lovely and delightful place to spend the evening. But despite this it still leaves you unable to put your finger on what has made the play such a unique phenomenon.

The Mousetrap tour is at the Orchard Theatre, Dartford until 21 September 2019.

Review – Lovers Anonymous ****

If you’ve ever endured a corporate team building ‘awayday’ you’ll be able to relate to the feeling you get on arriving for Lovers Anonymous. The chairs are arranged in a large circle around the room. There’s a basic table with tea, coffee and biscuits which the eager and slightly too enthusiastic Mike urges you to enjoy before the meeting gets started.

It transpires that what we’re attending is one of the regular meetings of a sort of counselling/self help group called Lovers Anonymous. After the obligatory warm-up exercises Mike and Sandra introduce us to the purpose of the group – a communal safe space where people can open up about their personal experiences of love and relationships. Various members of the group make contributions when prompted by our hosts. It’s not clear at first which are genuine contributions from the audience and which from other cast members who are mixed in amongst us. A few latecomers are admitted and this causes even more confusion. Are they genuinely late arrivals or entrances being made by more cast members? I’m not sure I really know even now!

The whole effect is unnerving to say the least. You find yourself watching everyone else. The ice-breaking games serve only to increase the sense of tension in the room. It comes as something of a relief, then, at least to genuine audience members, when cracks begin to show in the supposedly perfect relationship of Mike and Sandra. Her simmering resentment drips into proceedings slowly but surely, ready for an explosive moment you just know is coming.

Other group members it seems have been attending meetings regularly. Their various inadequacies and romantic failings are in their own way reassuring to the rest of us, whilst also providing some great, if perhaps unkind, laughs. Simon, for example, tells us how he has finally had the courage to speak to Emma, who he’s been admiring from afar these past two years. Suffice to say that when he brings out an album of photos of Emma it’s immediately clear he’s not made the progress the group was hoping for.

Serious issues are also addressed. Like casual sexism and the effect of pervasive pornography. The climax of the hour sees the whole of Mike and Sandra’s world collapse, whilst at least some of their group members are able to see the light and find the confidence to address their relationship needs outside the confines of Lovers Anonymous.

This was quite the most unusual experience I’ve had in a theatre for some time. The one thing I’ve always known in any show, even those designed to be interactive and immersive, is who are the actors and who are the audience. By brilliantly subverting this basic rule right from the moment you walk in, Lovers Anonymous does something unique, challenging, funny and thought-provoking.

Lovers Anonymous is at The Space Arts Centre until 19 July 2019.

Review – The South Afreakins: The Afreakin Family *****

There are, I believe, two kinds of people. Those who like wearing party hats – and normal people. I must confess, as party hats were duly handed out as we entered the theatre, I was mentally knocking off a star straight away. But, it turns out, this is, at least in part, the point. Because as the play progresses it becomes clear I wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable with the threat of enforced jollity.

The South Afreakins: The Afreakin Family centres on parents Gordon and Helene as they celebrate both 25 years since they emigrated from South Africa to New Zealand and Gordon’s 70th birthday. Joining them for the party are their twin daughters Rachel and Kelly – and family friend Clive.

The piece is written and performed by Robyn Paterson, playing all the characters. Any worries this was going to be hard work for the audience and self-indulgent for the actor were immediately dispelled by the opening scene of Gordon and Helene in bed at 3am, played completely in the dark. That way we could get to know the characters without the distraction of seeing them. After that it was plain sailing. Well, I say that. It was plain sailing for the audience. The two twin daughters arrived, along with Clive. Sibling rivalry boiled over (an object lesson in passive aggressiveness!). The amazing chocolate volcano cake was checked on again and again. Arguments happened in the bedroom and unseen off stage in the kitchen. Clive never spoke but his presence was almost literally felt. The switching from character to character, especially during heated arguments where the dialogue changed not only from one person to another but to a different scene between two other characters was effective, stunning and, OK, a little showy! So it was no doubt anything but plain sailing for Robyn Paterson. But it looked easy and felt oh so real. Sure, there were moments when she played wonderful comic riffs on the whole idea of her being all the characters. But at other times, particularly in the intense moments between the two warring twins, when their pain became all-consuming, the technical brilliance of the performance took a back seat.

The evening plays out the all-too familiar tensions that are brought to the fore by a family occasion. Subjects such a sibling rivalry and bodies failing with age whilst the mind refuses to realise it’s no longer 21 are laced with insight, wit and laugh-out-loud moments.

Invest just an hour of your life in this hugely entertaining piece and it’ll reward you with something to think about, laugh about and tell all your friends about for a long time to come.

South Afreakins: The Afreakin Family will be at The Space on the Mile at the Edinburgh Festival.

Review – Spitfire Sisters *****

In Spitfire Sisters writers Doc Andersen-Bloomfield, Catherine Comfort and Heather Dunmore tell the largely unknown story of the World War 2 women pilots of the ATA (Air Transport Auxiliary). Their role was to deliver aircraft from the manufacturers to the various airfields around the country, ready for combat. They had to be able to fly all the different aircraft types, from old fashioned Tiger Moths right up to the huge four-engined bombers. And to keep things simple they had to make these journeys without using the instruments – all they had was a compass. The powers-that-be considered women would find it too difficult to learn how to use all the different instruments in the various planes. So it seems they set forth almost literally on little more than a wing and a prayer.

American women pilots joined forces with our own ATA and the play centres on the moment this happens. It serves as a springboard to bring out a series of contrasts and challenges as the various characters reveal more about themselves as they adjust to their new colleagues. As well as a beautifully clear introduction to their differing working styles, delivered by the two senior officers to the audience as though we were in a briefing session, more personal issues surface. So we have alcoholism, sexual attraction, cultural difference and class divide all neatly brought to life through genuine and convincing characters going about their unusually intense working lives.

There is a downside to all this, which is that the story feels at times a little unfocussed. It seems for a long time it’s going to be a purely ensemble piece. Clues to any sort of plot are hard to come by. Then we begin to see that British senior officer Phyllis Griggs (Faye Maughan) is fighting several battles. There’s the one with the American senior officer, Jackie Hawkins (Alessandra Perotto), about the best way to lead and discipline their pilots. There’s another battle with her own fear of flying. And finally, the battle for equality with the male pilots of the ATA, who are paid more than the women for doing the same job. This focus is lost a short way into the second act where the pace seemed to slacken a little. At the same time it also delivered some powerfully emotional moments, such as when they all turn to salute the mission board after one of their number is killed.

Alessandra Perotto as American senior officer Jackie Hawkins dominates the stage and provides a wonderfully outspoken contrast to Faye Maughan’s uptight Phyllis. Jackie arrives in a mink coat demanding fresh coffee (to be reminded that there is a war on, you know). Phyllis, meanwhile, is so posh it almost hurts. Even her hair is uptight! In contrast Jackie’s hairstyle is a far more freewheeling affair, depending on what hat she’s wearing and whether she’s just got out of a cockpit!

Faye Maughan’s Phyllis shows great conviction and sincerity. Phyllis is not, on the face of it, a person to warm to. She’s deliberately aloof, partly because she sees it as her duty as leader, partly because she’s clearly not comfortable with letting herself get emotionally close to people. But Maughan carefully shows the humanity within as the play progresses and deftly lets the audience in on what this person is really about. She was particularly affecting during a stilted but powerfully charged phone call with her MP father as she attempts to get him to help her in her mission to get equality for women pilots .

I must also mention the staging. Before the play even started the ceiling was lit blue to suggest the skies the pilots would soon by flying through. I loved seeing the pilot, up in the gallery with a brilliantly simple lighting effect to show they were flying. Added to this the sound effects were spot-on. An air raid had you cowering along with the cast as some huge explosions detonated around the room.

The pilots were played by a young cast and each one managed two things. First, they looked too young to be flying planes in the war – which then reminded us that we did in indeed rely on 19 year old women to do this back then. Secondly they all demonstrated their absolute passion for flying. Not just because they were doing their duty for King and country, but because they just had to fly.

Director Adam Hemming really made great use of what The Space has to offer. This was a wonderul play, both a fascinating history lesson and a powerful evocation of time and place.

[Spoiler alert (although this is a matter of historic record): In a first for the British government, women pilots were awarded equal pay in 1943. Secondly, the American Jackie Hawkins in the play is so inspired by Phyllis she returns to the US to form a US equivalent to the ATA called WASPS (Women Airforce Service Pilots). This really happened and was achieved in fact by Jackie Cochran, who also went on to become the first woman to break the sound barrier.]

Spitfire Sisters is at The Space until Saturday 6 July.

 

 

Review – Post Mortem *****

You’ve got to admire a play that begins with a discussion about vacuum cleaners and ends with Shakespeare. Post Mortem is written by Iskandar R. Sharazuddin and he performs it in a two-hander with Essie Barrow.

With just two chairs and a white stage down the middle of the room, like a fashion show runway, you have to invest in the clues given by Nancy and Alex to work out that what we’re seeing is two simultaneous perspectives on their story so far. They look back on their relationship when they find themselves locked in the disabled toilet at their friends’ wedding 10 years on from their early teenage infatuation.

Through this both they and we uncover truths about the events that have shaped their relationship – including an apparent teenage pregnancy and abortion. But don’t let those elements give the impression this is by any means a heavy-going piece. It’s a deft mix of light and shade as well as making intelligent use of physical theatre to bring out both character and story.  For instance the physical intimacy of The Space is matched by the intimacy between the two performers in a carefully choreographed scene which is representational of their first love-making. In a humorous twist these moves are re-played later on as the Macarena dance, when they are locked in the toilet and hear the music being played at the wedding reception.

As ever The Space brings its own special atmosphere to this sort of intimate work. Director Jessica Rose McVay has used the room well, making good use of lighting to move us swiftly from place to place whilst also allowing the physical moments the time they need to play out fully. Iskandar R. Sharazuddin has a strong presence as Alex but shows vulnerability and trepidation in his re-connection with Nancy. Essie Barrow is, I learn, a dancer as well as an actor. This skill-set serves her well but she is equally strong on dialogue and, in particular, in her various monologues addressing the audience directly, as they both do.

This is a refreshingly original piece that’s also accessible. Don’t let the forecast warmer Spring weather my put you off spending some time inside the theatre for this. Sure you might want to enjoy a leisurely drink outside in the first of the warm evenings. But at The Space you can do that courtesy of their Hubbub bar/restaurant. And Post Mortem, at just an hour, allows time for the play and the pint (and get’s an extra star for this admirable compactness).

Post Mortem is at The Space Arts Centre until Saturday 20 April 2019.

Review – Witness for the Prosecution *****

Witness for the Prosecution has just announced an extension to March 2020, and having seen it you can tell why. The grip of this taught drama is hugely enhanced by the setting in the main council chamber of the County Hall building on London’s Southbank. Even the front of house staff are dressed as court ushers. Although not a courtroom, this stunning and imposing space has gravitas and ambience in spades. The play is not entirely set in a court but those scenes that are become truly engrossing to the point that one’s disbelief is suspended fully and willingly. For other scenes – for example in lawyers’ offices or a dark street – props are brought on by company members in neatly choreographed moves. This is necessary because there are no wings or flies so it’s quite a walk to the stage area from the various entrances, but the necessity results in an inventive and effective solution.

Making his West End stage debut in the leading role of the accused is Daniel Solbe as Leonard Vole. He has exactly the right mix of charm, insecurity, naivety and good looks for the part. And it’s essential he does for reasons which will become apparent if you go, but which I’m not about to give away here! His defence barrister, Sir Wilfrid Roberts QC, is suavely played with striking theatricality by Jasper Britton. He’s hugely credible in the part and really owns the room – both the fictional courtroom and the actual playing space. Batting against him is Mr Myers QC, played ferociously by William Chubb. The duel between these two lawyers becomes the centre of the play and they wheel around the stage in fast-paced and exciting scenes, pouncing on each other whenever even a pause for breath is threatened.

As Vole’s wife Romaine, the holder of his alibi, Emma Rigby is excellent. She looks and sounds the part and embraces the ambiguity of the role entirely. Of the other witnesses Joanne Brookes as the victim’s housekeeper Mrs Mackenzie has a great time on the witness stand, delightfully (for us) unwittingly digging her own holes with relish.

There is an undercurrent of outdated attitudes which jar with a contemporary audience. Women make tea and fall for charm and flattery. ‘Foreigners’ are not to be trusted on any account. But it is a period piece and these views are to be expected as a result. And in the end the plot itself in some ways undercuts them.

Courtroom dramas are always entertaining, as real-life courtroom proceedings bring their own inherent theatricality to the play, only serving to enhance the tensions. By combining that with a unique venue, Witness for the Prosecution successfully manages to punch above its weight and deliver an exciting and engrossing entertainment.

Sue in the Stalls attended courtesy of London Box Office.

Witness for the Prosecution is currently booking until March 2020.